


Shifting Through the Ashes

by flipflop_diva



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Spoilers, BAMF Maria Hill, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Backstory, F/F, Light Angst, Natasha Needs a Hug, POV Maria Hill, Red Room references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 13:02:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4626231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maria didn't care who Natasha used to be before she met her. She cared who Natasha was now when she was with her. Natasha, though, didn't see it quite like that. A tale of two agents, one love and a search for truth — all told backward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shifting Through the Ashes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sonotadream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonotadream/gifts).



> To sonotadream, I hope you enjoy this! It's not quite the badass mission fic I had first planned for you, but I hope it's enough of them being awesome together to make you happy.

Maria held the faded brown folder almost gingerly in her hands, her fingers brushing carefully over the faded ink that spelled, in Russian, the name of the woman she loved more than anyone in the world. She knew it was the right folder, because of the photo on the first page — the only page she had looked at, because it wasn’t hers to consume. 

The woman in the photo was young, very young, hardly more than a child, but the green eyes, and the defiant expression in them, were the same as the ones peering at her from across the room.

Maria looked up now, at Natasha. She was still standing feet away from Maria, waiting. Her face was calm, and her eyes were steely, but the way she was biting the inside of her lip told Maria she was more nervous than she wanted anyone to know.

Maria placed the folder down carefully on her desk, then held her left arm up and open.

“Come on, Nat,” she said softly.

She didn’t have to wait long until she felt Natasha slip into her embrace, their bodies pressed together as Natasha leaned into Maria. Maria twisted her head until she could see directly into Natasha’s eyes.

“We don’t have to do this, you know,” she said.

Natasha shook her head, her red curls dancing against Maria’s cheek in time with the movement. “Yes, we do,” she said. “I need to know who I am.”

“How many times have I told you we know who you are?” Maria said softly. “This folder is just your past. Not your present, not your future and not you.”

Natasha dropped her eyes so she was staring at the folder instead of Maria. “I need to know who I am,” she repeated.

Maria didn’t respond — this had been a long time coming, and she knew there was no going back now, no way to dissuade her, even if she had wanted to. Instead, she reached for the folder again and picked it up with her right hand, holding it in front of Natasha. “Whenever you’re ready,” she told her.

They stood there together for a moment, neither of them moving, until finally, Natasha reached out, her fingers taking hold of the bottom corner of the folder. She sucked in a breath, squared her shoulders and opened it.

“Here goes nothing,” she said.

•••

The burned pieces of wood and the charred metal betrayed nothing of the horrors this place used to hold, but Maria noticed Natasha shiver the second she saw it.

“Do you recognize anything?” Maria asked her quietly as they approached. Next to her, Natasha nodded and pointed. Maria followed her finger to see her pointing to what looked like a deep pit, but as they crept closer, she could see a set of stone stairs leading down into the earth.

“Where they kept us was underground,” Natasha said, her voice almost eerily monotone. “There were no windows, and it was always cold.” She shivered, like the cold from her memories had come back to haunt her now. “When we were younger, we shared rooms. They would handcuff us so we couldn’t leave. But when we got older — and stronger — they kept us in our own cells.” She paused, her face scrunching up a little. “At least I think so,” she said. “Some of my memories are foggy.”

She shrugged, almost apologetically, and Maria reached out to grab her hand, squeezing Natasha’s fingers with her own.

Natasha had never been able to tell them where the Red Room was. She’d told them when they first brought her into SHIELD that it had burned the night she escaped, but it was the only information she’d given them. Fury had thought she was keeping silent on purpose. Maria had always thought Natasha hadn’t really known, her memories of the first few weeks after she’d escaped a jumbled mess thanks to residual effects of drugs she’d been given before then.

Now, though, after months of searching and thanks to some help from Coulson and his team, they had found it.

Maria watched as Natasha let go of her hand and threaded her way through the rubble toward the pit with the stairs. She moved silently and gracefully, not looking anywhere except where she was headed.

Maria hurried to keep up with her. Natasha waited for her at the top of the stairs.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Maria asked her.

Natasha nodded. “I’m sure,” she said. “If there are any files still here, they kept them down there.”

“They probably didn’t just leave them in a file cabinet, did they?”

No,” she said, and for a second, the corners of her mouth turned up. “But I’m not leaving here without them. Let’s go.”

She gestured at Maria to follow her and started down the stairs. Maria sucked in a lungful of air and headed into the ground right behind her.

•••

Maria should have known she’d find Natasha in the upstairs training room. It was the fifth time in as many days as she’d found her there, standing perfectly straight and still, her eyes focused on something Maria couldn’t determine. Usually, Maria let her be, but this time she walked over to her and stood right next to her, as close as she could get without actually touching her.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Maria asked. 

Natasha didn’t say anything for a while. She didn’t give any indication that she even knew Maria was there, either, but Maria knew she had known since the second Maria had stepped foot into the room.

Finally, Natasha turned her head to look at Maria. “I’m fine.”

“No, you aren’t,” Maria said. “And that’s not what I asked.”

Natasha tilted her head a little to the side. “If I say no, I don’t want to talk about it?”

Maria shrugged. “Then I say this isn’t how it works, Natasha. We’re in this relationship together, and you can’t keep secrets. Not ones like this.”

“It’s not a secret.”

“When you’re not telling me why you’re so upset and distracted lately, it is a secret. Steve said you missed training. That’s not like you. He’s worried about you.”

“And if I tell you?”

Maria smiled. “And if you tell me, we figure it out together. Or we worry about it together. That’s how this works.”

“What if it’s not your problem to worry about?”

“Is it about Bruce? I know you think it’s your fault he left, because you pushed him to be the Hulk, but Natasha, he made his choice …”

“It’s not about Bruce.”

“Okay.”

“It’s about me.”

Maria arched a brow. “You?”

Natasha nodded slowly, then brought her arms up to wrap around herself. The same defensive posture she’d had since she’d first started to let Maria in so many years before, the same one she always resorted to when things hit a little too close for comfort. 

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” she finally said. “And dreaming about it. And picturing it. And wondering if everything I saw was real.”

“Natasha …”

“Everyone else said the visions Wanda showed them weren’t real. They were dreams or nightmares.”

Maria nodded. “I know they were,” she said, and she did. None of them had wanted to talk about what had happened, but after some gentle persuasion that it would be best for them as a team if they could all understand each other, they had. Except Natasha. She had kept her secrets from everyone but Maria, and the others had let her. No one wanted to be the one to make Natasha relive her past. 

Now, though, Maria reached out carefully and laid a palm flat across Natasha’s stomach. “But everyone is different, and we know what you saw is real because we know what they did to you is real. All your medical reports confirm it.”

Natasha bit her lip and looked away. “But what about everything else I saw?” she said. “All my memories of growing up are so distorted and jumbled.”

“I know, Nat.”

“Sometimes I just wish I could know who I really was.”

Maria took a breath. It hurt to see Natasha in so much pain, to see her struggle with things she never had a choice in. But Maria was afraid — afraid what learning the truth might mean. Natasha was already convinced she’d never make up for all the bad things she thought she had done. Maria didn’t want her to add more guilt to her list, but maybe she had to let her take that risk.

“I was talking to Coulson,” she said. “Maybe there’s something we can do.”

•••

“You’re not supposed to be here.” Fury met Maria on the Baron’s front porch, arms crossed in front of him. She matched his position.

“I could say the same about you.”

“You’re supposed to be in New York gathering information.”

“I can work on things just as well from here.”

“Can you?” The director’s impassive stare didn’t change as he eyed her. Maria stood her ground.

“She needs me.”

“She’s strong. She can handle this without you.”

“Of course she can,” Maria said. “It doesn’t mean she should have to.” And she pushed by him without another word.

She found Natasha in one of the upstairs bedrooms, dressed in a robe and sitting on the bed. She sat down beside her and slipped an arm around her, letting Natasha rest her head on Maria’s shoulder.

“Clint told me about the witch,” Maria whispered into Natasha’s hair. She felt Natasha tense, just so, before she went almost limp. Maria waited until Natasha was ready, just stroking her arm and holding her close.

Finally Natasha buried her head even more into Maria. “I shouldn’t be here,” she whispered into her shoulder.

Maria kept stroking her arm. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m a monster. They made me into a monster.”

“They _tried_ to make you into a monster. They failed.”

Natasha lifted her head. She reached out to touch Maria’s face, running her fingers along Maria’s jaw and under her chin. Then she moved in to kiss the corner of her mouth. 

“You don’t know that,” she whispered. “You don’t know everything I’ve done. I don’t know everything I’ve done. The things I saw today ...”

It was Maria’s turn to press her palm against Natasha’s face, to run her fingers through her curls, to kiss her hard enough to make her feel it.

“The things she showed you happened a long time ago,” Maria said. “They made you who you are today, but they don’t define you.”

“You don’t know that.”

Maria kissed her again, harder still. “Yes,” she whispered against her lips. “I do.”

•••

Maria had never been more proud in her life to slip an arm around Natasha and lead her away from the crowds than she was at the moment. She didn’t care about the cameras snapping or the reporters with microphones or the fans lined up on the sidewalk. 

Next to her, Natasha looked almost majestic. She was poised and beautiful, fierce and strong. Even in a skirt and heels, everyone around them knew she could take any one of them down with a word or a finger, if she so desired.

It wasn’t until they were alone in Maria’s apartment, though, that Maria pulled her close and kissed her, slipping a hand under her shirt to feel her warm skin, to trace over the scars that labeled her a survivor. 

“I’m so proud of you,” Maria told her, as she lay Natasha down on the bed and moved to straddle her.

“Because I testified in front of Congress?”

“Because you were willing to give up everything to do what you know is right.”

Natasha shrugged, but Maria could tell her words meant something. To everyone else, Black Widow had been a mystery, a legend. Someone untouchable. Revealing all her secrets to the world because Steve Rogers thought there shouldn’t be any more secrets took more courage than anyone else could possibly understand. Even Steve.

But Maria understood, and she loved Natasha more because of it. She knew Natasha thought of herself as something dark and damaged, with a past and memories that haunted her at every turn. She knew Natasha worried that there was more to her life than she could remember, that she had done more things she should regret or be ashamed of. 

But Maria knew there was nothing, could never be anything, that changed how she felt about her. And as she slipped Natasha’s skirt and her panties down her legs, she tried to show her just how much that was true.

•••

“Do you know any nice girls?”

Maria looked up from her tablet to frown at Natasha. “Is that your weird way of breaking up with me?”

Natasha smirked. “Yes,” she said, then laughed. “I meant for Steve. I’m trying to set him up.”

“You’re trying to set Captain America up on a date?”

Natasha nodded.

“Why?” Maria asked.

“Because he keeps trying to be my friend.”

“Well, darn him,” Maria said as Natasha plopped down on the couch beside her. “How dare he. You already have me and Clint. How could there possibly be room for more?”

Natasha scowled at Maria, the humor already gone from her expression. “You know it’s not that simple,” she said.

Maria sighed, placing her tablet down on the table beside her. She reached over to rub Natasha’s leg.

“I know,” she said. “But I just want you to see that you don’t have to push everyone away all the time.”

“I have you. And Clint,” Natasha said, as if it were just that simple.

“I’m sure Captain America could be a great friend if you let him.”

Natasha shook her head. “I’m sure he could,” she said, “but I’m not ready to let him see me as I really am.”

Maria tilted her head. “I think he does see you how you really are,” she said. “You’re the only one who doesn’t see you.”

“I know who I am,” Natasha said, and her eyes narrowed. She made a move to pull away, but Maria gripped her tighter. 

“Okay,” Maria said softly, conceding defeat, just for this round. “If you say so. But someday, I think Steve just might get you to change your mind.” 

•••

They weren’t supposed to be here. If Fury found out, he’d have them both on new missions, on opposite sides of the world, so fast their heads would probably spin. But Maria didn’t care about that right now. She only cared about the naked woman pressed up against her, and the way said woman moved when Maria nipped at her skin and rubbed gentle circles between her legs.

“How do you like it?” Maria asked her later, when they were both sweat-covered and breathing heavy. Natasha shifted, turning on her side so she could face Maria. “Being Natalie again,” she added.

“Weird,” Natasha answered instantly, and she made a face.

Maria arched a brow, waiting for more. Natasha shrugged before continuing. “It used to feel so normal, putting on a different skin,” she said. “It feels … different now.”

Maria nodded. It had been three years since Clint had brought in a fiery nineteen year old who had looked ready to kill them all. She had been almost feral then, every move an instinct and a reaction. She was different now, more in control, more perceptive.

The one thing that was the same was how guarded she was. Except on nights like these, when in the aftermath of passion, she’d let her guard drop.

Maria couldn’t help it. She shifted over closer to Natasha, curling her arms tight around her, keeping her pressed against her. She could feel Natasha’s warm breath on her chest as they lay there, could feel the beat of her pulse from where her fingers were curled around her neck. She lowered her head, so her words went straight into Natasha’s ear.

“I love you,” she said. It wasn’t the first time she had said it, but it always felt that way.

Against her, Natasha shifted, almost uncomfortably, her fingernails digging in just that much harder. “How can you love me,” she whispered into Maria’s chest a few minutes later, same as she always did “if you don’t even know who I really am?”

Maria wanted to tell her she did know who Natasha really was — at least who Natasha really was with her, who she really was as a SHIELD agent, who she really was in the moments she let her guard drop — but she knew Natasha needed to figure that out on her own. Instead she just whispered, “I just do,” and pressed a kiss to her temple.

•••

It looked like any other door to any other room at SHIELD headquarters. Tall and silver and almost a foot thick, at the end of a non-descript windowless hallway that could only really be found if someone knew where they were going or had gotten hopelessly lost.

Fury paused, his fingers on the keyboard, casting a sidelong glance at Maria. “You don’t have to go this,” he said.

“Of course I don’t,” she answered. “I want to.”

“She’s dangerous.”

“She’s barely more than a _child_.”

“A child who was bred to kill and feel no remorse. She killed twenty grown men single-handedly four weeks ago and didn’t even flinch.”

“She didn’t have a choice. She never had a choice. Until now. She chose to come in.”

“Over having a bullet put in her head. That doesn’t scream undying loyalty.”

“Barton thinks she wants this.”

“Barton and Coulson are too trusting sometimes for their own good.”

Maria’s lip twitched at that. They were, but it’s why she liked them. It’s why she trusted them. It was why she was here now, and she knew Fury knew that.

“There will be ten armed guards watching me. And I can hold my own,” Maria said calmly. “She won’t get near me. I just want to talk to her.”

“I still don’t understand why you want to do this, Agent Hill.”

Maria did smile at that. “I just have a feeling,” she said, “that she’s going to be someone special.”

“Fine.” Fury turned to the keypad, entering a series of numbers. A small click signaled the door was now unlocked. “But if this goes wrong, I am putting a bullet through her head and not thinking twice.”

“I’ll let her know,” Maria said, and she pulled the door open and walked inside.

Maria had seen the Russian spy on countless security footage tapes, in thousands of photographs and even through the glass windows of the interrogation room, but standing in the same room as her now, Maria was almost in awe. Natalia Romanova was smaller than she looked on camera, but the expression on her face was just as defiant, just as deadly, as she stood in the corner of the room, watching Maria’s every move. Maria noticed her posture was rigid and her hands were clenched into fists. She knew Natalia was a master of hiding her emotions, so she figured she wanted her to know she wasn’t pleased.

That was okay. 

There were two chairs in the room. Maria took the one closest to her and sat down. She smiled up at Natalia, who hadn’t moved an inch. At least not yet. But she would. There was plenty of time.

“Hi, Natalia,” she started. “I’m Maria.”


End file.
